Gratitude by Varzen Dralmort & A. Kita

“Keep your chin up, fish,” the grey wolf said, slipping a thumb in his waistband as they sat on his jail bunk. “It ain’t so bad. Just need ten percent in cash for bail. So you suck dick?”

“What? No? Huh?” Kip spluttered out.

The old wolf grinned. “You don’t have to lie to kick it, kid. No shame in your game if you do.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Only had to say so once.” The old convict stretched out against the back wall and stuck his legs out. It drew attention to his physique—still solid, stocky, and with a healthy mound at the front of his pants. “Most important thing a man has in here, Top Shelf, is his word. No matter what happens. No matter where you go in the system, the one thing you’ll always have, even if you’re in your skivvies on shit watch in the hole, is your word. It’s worth more than gold or all the envelopes in the postal system.”

“But what if they send me to prison?” Kip whispered.

“Every day’s just another day,” the grey wolf shrugged again. “Just gotta take what’s in front of your muzzle.”

Kip looked in the wolf’s steely eyes, then down at the waist of his pants, shoved down now to show part of the red meat poking against the grey of his fur. The older convict arched his back, easing the elastic over his hips and exposing more of his length as Kip leaned forward on his hands and knees. Reaching up to take the edge of the sheet hanging down from the bunk above, the wolf drew it shut around them.